


After

by Caia2468



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, Spanking, Strapping, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-11 00:53:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3309650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caia2468/pseuds/Caia2468
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean rats out Sam for smoking and skipping school. John disciplines him. </p><p>Warning for parental spanking and wincest</p>
            </blockquote>





	After

**Author's Note:**

> My very first attempt at story, I would love/need any feedback or help! I will continue if there is any interest.

Sam sat on the corner of the bed with his elbows on his knees, head in hand. 

He could hear his brother down the hall talking to their father, in hushed tones. His father's deep tones were getting louder and angrier. It wouldn't be long now.

John's foot steps thudded heavily down the hall. As expected, they halted at the closet in the hallway. Let it be the belt not the paddle, Sam thought frantically. The belt hurt, burned even, but that paddle was a deep bruising pain that lingered for days.

Sam distractedly wondered if he should point out to his father how ridiculous it was to punish your seventeen year old in such a decidedly childlike fashion. 

But, it wouldn't work, and what little dignity he might have left would be shattered by fighting it now. And he had to think of _after_...

The footsteps got closer and more ominous. A slight sound from above drew Sam's eyes up to the ceiling of the room. The room had one of the old drop cardboard tile ceilings, cracked and stained in places. One tile had a hole big enough to fit a cat through, or a squirrel as Sam and Dean discovered one jumping, yelling, and scream (Dean!) filled evening. Who knew that big brother, the bad-ass hunter could hit such a high pitched note while trying to kill the squirrel with a _pillow_.

The door knob rattle shook Sam from his reverie about squirrels and shrieking brothers. He hastily wiped his hands on his jeans. 

John stepped into the room and closed the door to behind him. His eyes were tired when he turned around, but his cheeks had two high spots of color on them, telling of his irritation and anger. In his right hand he carried ( _thank heavens_ ) the long oiled black strap. 

"So, I hear from your brother that you smoke, now? And skip classes?" John's voice sounded a little incredulous. Which was fair, this was out of character for Sam. "I mean I know that you feel the need to go left when I say right, just to irritate me, lately, but smoking - really??? And since when do you skip school? Your brother, maybe, but you?"

Sam swallowed thickly. "I, ummm, well, I met someone and they...."

John rolled his eyes, "So this is about a girl. I should have known." He added impatiently, "I don't really care what the reason is, while I am gone you obey the rules, go to school and listen to your brother! And really, how stupid do you have to be to smoke? Like we don't have enough things trying to kill us? We probably shouldn't help them!" 

Sam kept his eyes down. 

John took a deep breath. "Let's get to it, you know why I am here. You want to act like a child then I will treat you like one. Stand up and get your pants down."

Sam stood, mouth dry. He reached for the button on his jeans and slid his zipper down. He let his jeans fall to the ground. Humiliation stained his cheeks red. _After, after_... 

His father took a seat on the bed, and quirked an eyebrow towards Sam's underwear. "Those too." 

Sam pushed his boxers down too, they pooled around his ankles with his jeans. John patted his knee, and Sam shuffled to his right side, ankles hampered by his clothes. If he had thought this through, he grumbled to himself, he would have taken his boots off first, but now he was stuck. 

John lightly smirked lightly at Sam's predicament, causing Sam's cheeks to burn even hotter, and pulled Sam over his lap. At just over six feet (and growing!), Sam didn't really fit anymore, like he used to. It almost made John wistful - his boys were growing up. 

Although not so much that they didn't need to be taken down a peg or two. Focusing on that, John rested his hand on the lower part of his youngest's back. 

"I wonder what your girlfriend would think now if she could see you now, with your pants down, bare-assed across your dad's knee about to spanking and then a whipping with the belt? Wonder if she would think you were cool for smoking and skipping school, now? Or in few minutes when you will be crying in the corner, red butt on display?" 

Sam gritted his teeth as another wave of humiliation washed through him. Their father had always thought a good dose of embarrassment should go with every punishment. It was that embarrassment, even more than the pain, that caused Sam to avoid this position at all costs. He didn't answer.

SLAP! "I am sorry, I didn't hear an answer to my question!" John barked. 

"No, sir!' Sam quickly replied

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP! "No sir, what?"

Knowing what his father wanted, and his butt already stinging, Sam said "No sir, she would not think I was cool if she saw me now or standing in the corner." 

Perhaps the worst part of that was that it was the truth. No matter how much he held out, by the time this was over, Sam would be sobbing in the corner, pants at ankles like a child. _After_ would be worth it...

"Alright, well lets get down to business on the first part of your spanking."

John pulled his hand back and slammed his palm into Sam's rear, proving that the first swats were mere love taps. Sam bit back a groan. John meticulously covered each square inch of Sam's ass. After there was uniform pink from the top of his butt to just below the crease of his thighs, John started to focus on that crease.

Sam hard-knuckled himself through the first round, only letting an occasional grunt out. But when John focused on the top of his thighs, Sam started to lose it. A keening groan started deep inside and ended on little sob. Tears were beginning to leak out of the corner of his eyes. 

By the time John started working his way around his canvas the second time, Sam, to his mortification, was starting to plead. "Please, please".

John briskly made his third round across Sam's bottom, and then rang down twenty hard placed blows on each sit spot. Sam gave up any pretense at being strong and started to sob. How was the man's hand so hard?

John finished up and helped Sam to his feet, little hiccups sneaking out. 

"Almost done, Sammy and then you can cry it out in the corner. I need you to go over to that dresser and bend over so I can finish this with the strap," John ordered.

Broken, Sam started to beg, "Please Dad, don't...I won't do it again, not the strap!"

But John was having none of it. He grabbed Sam by the arm and swung him around pulling up his T-shirt and peppering his red behind with swats. "Young man, (SMACK!) you know that you (SMACK!) deserve the (SMACK!) strap, and I don't want to (SMACK!) here anything more about (SMACK!) it!! Bend over right now (SMACK!)"

Sam's tears renewed by the latest assault to his rear and dignity, Sam shuffled, still bound by his jeans and underwear, to the dresser. The dresser was just higher than waist level, so when Sam lowered his forearms his bottom jutted out obscenely into the room. As he laid his head on his arms, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and his cheeks were wet. He certainly didn't look like a tough seventeen year old monster hunter. He looked like a sad, punished, child. The thought caused his cheeks to burn even more hotly. Sam didn't want to think about the picture he made bending over like this. 

In the mirror he could see his father line up beside him and pull back his arm. Sam quickly averted his eyes.

CRACK!

White hot heat lanced across Sam's ass.

CRACK! CRACK CRACK! CRACK!

Sam started sobbing into is arms.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

John paused, "Son, tell me what's happening right now?"

Sam struggled for a minute to get himself under control. Fuck, he hated these Q/A sessions mid strapping. Nothing to make you feel even lower than having to talk around your sobs to tell your dad why he is spanking you. _After, just keep thinking about after_...

"I am getting a spanking because I skipped school (hiccup!) and smoked!" Sam sobbed out.

"What kind of spanking are you getting son?"

"A bare bottom spanking over your knee and with the belt."

"Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, sir!" Sam feverishly promised. "I promise!" 

Anything to make it stop.

"Okay, son" suddenly John sounded tired and old. "To make sure let's top this off with 20 more with the belt and then an hour in the corner, pants down, to think about it."

With no further comment, John slammed the belt down on Sam's ass. By the time he finished 10, Sam was babbling promises about being a good boy and by 20 he was limply sobbing into his arms. 

John quickly inspected his rear, it would hurt like the dickens for a few days, but no skin was broke and only light bruising where the strap welts overlapped. 

He helped his youngest up and pressed Sam's face into his neck. "I love you, son. Don't make me do that again." 

"Yes, sir," Sam hiccuped. 

John gently led to the corner and pushed his nose in it. Yeah, the boys were probably too old for the corner, but John found the time to calm down and reflect good for both of the boys. The added humility didn't hurt either.

"You stay there for an hour," John stated. "I am setting the alarm on your phone. I have to ride into town for some supplies, and I might try to find a poker game, so I won't be home til late. I will have your brother check in on you, so don't sneak out early."

John kissed his son on the side of the house and strode out of the room.

As Sam tried to get himself under control, he faintly heard his father call for his brother, muted voices, then the slam of the front door followed by the roar of the Impala.

Sam heard the bedroom creak open. 

Dean whistled low. "Damn, you really were a bad boy weren't you, Sammy."

Sam gritted his teeth and said nothing. As many times as Dean had seen him naked it was still mortifying as hell to be standing here in the corner, pants down, tears still running, with a bright red ass.

Sam heard Dean quietly approach. In a low strangled voice, Dean asked, "Were you a bad boy, Sammy?" 

Dean pulled to a stop right behind Sam. Sam could feel the heat from Dean. Could feel Dean's breath brush across his neck.

Dean waited.

Sam caved, "Yes, Dean, I was a bad boy, who got spanked. Are you happy?"

A low groan was pulled from Dean. "Oh fuck, baby boy, you have no idea." Dean gently bit at Sam's neck while using his two hands to rub the sting from Sam's ass. 

There was wonder and worship in Dean's voice, "I cannot believe you did that for me, I am so fucking lucky, baby boy. I was watching you from the ceiling and I got so hard watching you. You were so perfect, and I cannot wait to make it up to you, I am going to fuck your hot red ass so hard that you will feel me for days. But first I am going to make you lay down on that sore red ass, and I am going blow you until you can't think straight. Wait until you come and do it all over again. Then bend you over the bed and maybe spank you a few times to get that sting going again, then I am going fuck you all night long, so that you always know you are my good boy."

Sam groaned and leaned back into Dean.

It was finally _after_....


End file.
